Reid's Romance
by raindrop13
Summary: Another romance for Dr. Reid! T only because I'm paranoid. Reid meets a friend of Garcia's and falls in love. No flames, but I love R&R! No slash, no inter-team romance.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One – Chocolate

Reid's POV

Wow. Garcia was really pepped up today, even more than usual. This was either really good or really bad for me. She ushered Emily and JJ over and began talking in hushed whispers. This was now leaning toward really bad. Walking over to them I awkwardly said "Hey? Is something up?" Garcia laughed and bounced on her feet. "Girl's night out!" she cried "And this one's going to be so awesome! My friend's coming along! You're going to love her Reid." She informed him with a mischievous look in her eyes. "Um… Okay… I'm gonna go… over there." I said, definitely not liking the look in her eyes, or the way JJ and Emily kept giggling. I went to go sit down at my desk again.

Suddenly a girl walked in, someone with the looks of a supermodel. She was tall and fit, with perfect sun kissed skin and bright, inviting eyes. Her lips were full and smeared casually with light, nearly nude, lip-gloss. Her clean, blond hair was wavy and two strands framed her face. Her long legs were exposed to the thigh in a loose blue skirt. Her shirt was a plain blue tee, but it was adjusted perfectly so that although it exposed nothing, it gave a very clear picture of her perfect figure. She was wearing practical pumps that she could run in if need be but were also undeniably sexy.

Morgan, of course was up to her in a flash. She stopped when Morgan started talking to her. Listening for a moment, she interrupted him abruptly and left him staring after her, apparently dazed. Walking up to him he said "That's the first time I've ever seen you turned down by a girl. What happened?" he shook his head. "She said my lines were degrading, my demeanor arrogant, and that she was uninterested. Said she came to be with her friends, not get a date." He walked back to his office in a fog. For some reason I was undeniably pleased that she'd turned him down, though I felt bad for my friend.

I walked unsurely up to the girl. This girl was gorgeous and confident, but I wasn't looking for a date, I was just curious. That wouldn't stop me from stumbling though. She looked up when I approached and I noticed the sparkling look in her eyes, and how her lips seemed permanently turned upward, from the moment she'd walked in. It didn't seem cocky, not even when she'd been turning down Morgan, it only seemed as though she was so happy she had to show it by smiling.

"H-hi, I'm Spencer. Y-you must be Garcia's friend. Right?" I asked, unsure of my boundaries. She laughed, but it wasn't mean. Once more, I was struck by the idea that her happiness was superfluous. "Well, Garcia's friend isn't a defining characteristic, but that's me!" she exclaimed. "Hey!" ejaculated Penelope. "I only meant that there are so many of your friends that having it be defining would be like using the word 'human' as a trait." She soothed, though her countenance changed slightly to portray amusement. "Mmm-hmm. See, this is why I love her." Garcia teased.

The girl rolled her eyes and pulled out a chocolate. I loved chocolate but I knew it would sound dorky if I asked for one. She looked at me from the corner of her eye. "Want one?" she offered a handful, but I shook my head. "Kay." She said dubiously. "My name's Mia, by the way." She brightened at the introduction. I smiled slightly and nodded, not sure what else to do. "Mia, we have to go. We're gonna be late, and with our track record there's gonna be a case by nine. I said "Well, no, the statistics show a different analysis, your mind just tricks you in process called" I halted abruptly as I realized that Mia was saying "Actually, the statistical chance is fairly low. You just remember the interruptions more" but she noticed our similar comments at the same time I did and stopped short. JJ and Emily were cracking up. "Uh huh. Well, wonder twins, as low as the statistical analysis is, WE NEED TO GO!" Garcia began dragging Mia along.

She glanced back at me as she was being pulled along, and I saw her put something on my desk. A moment after she was out of sight, I walked over to see what it was. Lying on my desk was a piece of chocolate and a business card that read

Mia Turelli

Event Planner

Followed by a phone number. I shook my head. This girl had turned Morgan down and after only a few stuttering sentences she gave me her phone number. Was I worried about her mental health? Yes. Was I going to consult Morgan? Yes. Was I going to sprint to the phone the second I got home in order to schedule a date? Absolutely.

Mia POV  
I hadn't put a lot of effort into my outfit. I'd chosen things that matched and looked good on me, but I wasn't particularly dressed up. The only makeup I wore was some lip gloss, and my hair was only wavy to its natural extent. I took a cab to the FBI headquarters and after I finally got through the security I took the elevator to the BAU. Walking in, I was immediately greeted by a man I'd never met before. He was being cocky and assuming, and I told him so, as politely as I could. It was apparent he wasn't turned down often. Walking over to the girls, I smiled even more than usual. I'd known Garcia since Pre-K, and though I'd only met JJ and Emily recently, they were very friendly and I felt welcomed into their group.

After a few moments another man came up to us. He was handsome, and I liked his hesitance. It was sweet, and he didn't strut up like a rooster looking for a hen, as most other men did. He seemed to actually _care_ about my opinion of him. He introduced himself as Spencer and I wondered if his stuttering was because he was nervous or because of a permanent speech impediment. I made a remark in response, which several of my coworkers would consider 'witty' but was, to me, natural. Garcia took offense, though it was probably feigned, and I soothed her while making it clear that the whole thing was mainly amusing to me. After a moment I pulled some chocolate out of my bag, and I noticed that he was watching me. I offered some, but he politely shook his head.

Why? It was obvious he wanted some. I didn't push him and when Garcia commented on our urgency I was irked. I began on a lecture about how we only tricked ourselves into the illusion that bad things happened more than they did, in terms they would understand, when I realized he was saying the same thing, though his terms were a little more advanced. JJ and Emily were, of course, finding the whole event hilarious. I took a different take; I wanted a date. Garcia began dragging me along the corridor before I could tell him so.

I stealthily reached into my purse and pulled out chocolate and a business card. I wished I had time to write down my home number, but I knew I didn't so I put it on the desk I'd seen him sitting at earlier. The rest of the night was a blur.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two- Daunting Date

3rd person- limited

Spencer had called the next morning, a Saturday, when he and Mia were proven correct. No case had been thrust upon them and he was hoping for a weekend of the same. She had agreed to meet him at a tiny Italian restaurant that night, after work. He thought she was lucky to work, this particular Saturday, for while she was busy, he had nothing to distract him from the looming date that was sure to be the end of any possible relationship with Mia. She would laugh at him for stuttering, or be bored by his encyclopedic knowledge, surely.

Spencer was pleasantly surprised. Mia had arrived in a black dress that was both professional and attractive. It was sleeveless, with a conservative neckline. The stitching hinted at cleavage in a way that made you wonder how it was hinting. It was knee length and from the hip line down it was multi-layered and fluttered at any movement of the wearer. Her jewelry was simple and classy. She wore a silver chain around her neck with a small black symbol hanging from it, and her earrings were black chandeliers. Her hair was in a messy up do, with a few strands on either side escaping to frame her face and linger beside her neck. The overall effect was that of a princess walking into a castle.

Spencer, though dressed quite fashionably in a suit and tie, felt shabby next to the princess. The princess, however, wanted nothing more than to make him her prince. In any case, the date went as well as any ever did. They found they had an astounding amount in common.

Mia had graduated high school when she was 15, got into Yale on a full road scholarship, and graduated with degrees in chemistry and journalism. (**A/N Yale does offer these.) **She proceeded to Georgetown where she got a degree in business management. (**A/N no idea if Georgetown offers this)** she opened her own event planning venue when she was 25, and, since she'd graduated early for all her degrees, had been at this for several years. She had become successful and well-known.

The other thing they had in common was their luck- Mia had been kidnapped and shot at various points in her life. And, as she so eloquently put it, "I don't even have the excuse of working for the FBI!" Ultimately they both went home more than happy, wanting very much to see one another again, and sure that the other couldn't feel the same way.


	3. Chapter 3

**(A/N: so this is what Mia does for a living. I mentioned she planned weddings on her business card, but I wanted to go more in depth than that. Hope you like it!)**

Chapter Three

Mia's POV  
I'd awoken early that morning, and decided to take things easy. I showered with a deliberate slowness, letting the heat loosen my tense muscles. I loved the smell of the soap I used; cherry blossoms and lilies were something I would never tire of. I chose an off white dress with hot pink floral patterns. It was short sleeved, so I also grabbed a three-quarter sleeve sweater, which was a matching shade of pink. The dress went to my knees. I also chose a pair of high heels. They didn't jack my height up too much, only about an inch, and they were open-toed. They stayed on my feet because of the cream fabric that wrapped around my ankles, from the back of the shoe, and the ribbon tied around my toes.

I walked into my quaint office after a short drive. It was at the heart of a lakeside town, so tourists loved it. I owned an appealing lakefront property, which I used for weddings, and I was a frequent renter of the nearby churches. People knew me here, it was a small town, and I usually made my purchases from local stores which helped the economy. The local florist had flourished due to our patronage.

My office was whitewashed on the outside; it was located on a sunny corner, easily accessible by the main street. There were petunias lining the sidewalk, and a maple tree planted in the front lawn. I had a sturdy, well-maintenanced picnic table under the shade of the maple, in case the bride and groom wanted to do some planning outside. I was of the firm belief that the planning of a wedding shouldn't ruin the experience of the actual event. Many of my mother's friends had confided how hellish their wedding-planning was, and my job was greatly affected by the efforts I went through to prevent that. I didn't charge extra for it, either, something many of my customers greatly appreciated.

I walked in to see my assistant, Cynthia. She was an elderly woman who enjoyed her job; she was hard-working and kind, and her personality was easy going, which suited me well. She had her glasses on, her gray hair in a loose bun to keep it out her face, as she read over some papers. "Mia, here's an absolutely wonderful couple. They're twenty-six, we have to plan this one." She said handing me a form. "Okay, I'll look into it. What about that one?" she handed me a form with a delicate wrinkle of her nose.

Reading it, I understood why she disliked them. The entire application was about how I was the best, and they were willing to pay for the best. I despised people who thought I was doing this for money. I was in this for the happiness on the faces of the newlyweds and so was Cynthia, who was still successfully married to her husband after forty-eight years.

I threw it out, smiling at Cynthia as I walked into my office. "Send them a polite decline, okay?" I said, and she nodded.

Cynthia's desk was located in the corner of the waiting room. The waiting room was mostly tan and beige, except for Cynthia's desk and the coffee table, which were mahogany, and it was the first thing you saw when you walked in. Pictures of happy families (sent to me by grateful clients), both with children and without, lined the walls in silver frames. A hallway was carved into the middle of the back wall, leading to my office and the conference room. The conference was used for planning with whole families, or for the bridal shower, if they chose to have it there. It was a huge rectangular room with a glass-top table in the center. It was plain, so that they could bring decorations, or fit massive groups in without complication.

My office was painted a soothing green. The floor was a sand-colored hardwood. There were splashes of color in the form of live flowers, and my desk was mahogany. The chairs were mahogany too, but to maximize comfort, there were green cushions embedded in the seat and back. There was a bookshelf in the corner, filled with albums that held options, different boutiques and caterers, etc. There were also two metal filing cabinets, painted green, one for current clients and one for past, in case they lost the files. After a year, we took an old client's file out and put it on the computer database. We never ditched them completely.

I quickly read the application for the couple Cynthia liked. I had to agree, they were very sweet. They included their plans for a family, that they wanted to have a honeymoon somewhere quiet, and that they'd been dating for four years and wanted the wedding ASAP. I quickly called the number they'd listed.

"Hello, this is Marie." Said a gentle female voice on their end. "Hi, this is Mia Turelli, owner of Nothing Blue Bridal Boutique. I'm calling to say that we've accepted your application, and I wanted to schedule a date for our first interview." I heard her call "Jim" and the beep that meant a speaker phone had been activated. "Well, when are you open?" she asked, a giggle about to break loose.

I grabbed my calendar. "I'm free every day except next Sunday, and this Thursday." We quickly scheduled a date, and I wrote a few checks to various caterers and loans. I was wealthy before I started the wedding business, but this was certainly helping. I chose fair prices for everything, but I was very popular. I chose to do long meetings rather than several short ones, because it was more efficient, and I handled several weddings at once. People who wanted to use me filled out applications, and Cynthia and I chose which weddings were going to be worth it.

"Mia, come out here!" called Cynthia, so I pushed my calendar to the side and walked out.


End file.
